Quiet
by The Mourner's Mistress
Summary: After a suicide-attempt, Bella Swan ends up in Forks Mental Institute - to her great dislike. However, she soon meets Edward Cullen, who appears to be quite as messed up as she has been and they embark on an endless road of pointless bets and horribly long therapy-sessions. - ALL HUMAN
**AN: First of all, I want to thank you all for reading. However, know that this story will contain tough topics like suicidal tendencies, eating disorders, depression, etc…, even though I intend to keep this one of the more 'lighthearted' ones. If any of these topics may be a trigger for you, I do not suggest reading this story. It is not my intention to do any harm.**

 **I hope you enjoy _Quiet_ , as much I am loving writing it. **

**Lots of love, M.**

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" _The bravest thing I ever did was continuing my life when I wanted to die."_

― **Juliette Lewis**

I didn't plan on any of this to happen; but then again, I suppose no one has ever started the day with the idea of completely fucking up their life, simply for the joy of it. Not that I'm complaining really. It could be worse. For example, I could be. . . naked right now. Yeah, that's a good one. This situation would be a whole lot worse if I were to be without clothes, which I fortunately am not. So life is good. If that's not optimism, I don't know what the fuck is.

"Bella, are you still with me?"

"Hm?" I mutter and look up, realizing I haven't said a word in several minutes and have missed quite a bit of the tour Kate is giving me. My auto-pilot must be quite amazing though, since I have been following her without hesitation.

She softly smiles, even though I expected some disapproving looks and words of the importance of paying attention – the kind my mother gives on a daily basis - making me instantly like her more. Not _like like,_ but she might not be the most horrible person in this place. Although I probably shouldn't decide on things like this on my very first day, it feels nice to have at least one probably okay-ish person close.

"I understand this must all be a little overwhelming, but I'm certain you'll soon feel comfortable here." _Yeah right._ "But I know you probably don't think so, and I don't blame you."

Alright, I do like her.

"Unfortunately, I do have to finish the tour, but only one more item on the list: Your room, at the end of the hallway," the blonde nurse informs me. Now that's one I'm actually interested in, so I force a smile and nod, whilst continuing to willingly follow her path.

We keep on strolling and pass many white/yellow-colored doors, making me wonder which one will be mine and when I will finally be left in peace. I'm bloody exhausted.

After a minute of silence we start to slow down. "Here we are," she says as she stops by the door that is in fact completely at the end of the hall, which I find strangely comforting. "There's only a few rules concerning your room, but they must've already informed you about them at your intake, right?"

I nod again, trying to remember my conversation with the redhead. "No locking the doors, no smuggling booze, no sharp or harmful objects, no smoking here or anywhere besides the garden, no destruction of property and no bothering the other residents-" It appears they're allergic to the word 'patient' in here. "Did I forget one?" I sigh.

"No," she chuckles, "A+ for you, Isabella."

"I'd rather you not call me that," I state silently, almost automatically. For some reason my defense-system immediately goes up when I hear the _I-word._

Again, she simply gives me a calm smile, where others have reacted with confusion and the statement that they love my name and that I should appreciate it more. "What do you prefer then?"

Ehr. . . Good one. Crap, what kind of moron doesn't know what she wants to be called? Swan, like Felix – my best friend – has called me since I was a mere 5 years old? Bella, a simple shortening almost everyone uses? I don't bloody know. Honestly, I don't want them to talk me at all, so maybe I should simply give them an absolutely random name, like. . . Susan or ehr. . Debbie.

"You just think about it and let me know," she soothes me as she opens the door to my room, allowing me to step in first. To my surprise it's not the simple closet drawing my attention, nor the single window, but the random – and rather attractive - stranger who made himself comfortable on my bed.

"What the f-", I exclaim, before looking over my shoulder at Kate, who seems not even a little bit as shocked as I am. "Does he come with the room?"

Immediately she enters and I do the same, still following like the little duckling I apparently have become. "No, he definitely does not. Edward, what do you think you're doing here? This is not your room, as you know." Although she tries her best to sound displeased, I can hear she's not all that angry with him and this might not be first time this happened. Though I for one, don't know how I feel about someone invading my bed like that before the third date.

"Ah, fresh meat," the stranger – apparently named Edward – says with a wide, seemingly sinister grin, while he takes me in with his eyes. "I had heard the whispers in the hallways, but didn't know if it was true; a new one. And now, here you are." He sounds almost enthusiastic about my absolutely-not-that-interesting presence.

Kate rolls her eyes, letting out a chuckle. Don't know if _I_ am all that amused. "Alright Edward, you've seen her. Now let the girl be. She's got enough on her plate without you b-" Without warning a soft alarm sounds from the pager on her belt and she looks down, frowning. "My apologies, I have to go. Try to settle in, miss Swan," she says while already making her way out the door. "We'll come get you for dinner and Carmen will bring you your bag once it's been checked. Feel free to look around and meet some of the others in the meanwhile." For a second she stepts outside, but turns around one last time. "Be nice to her, Edward. You only just got your outside-privileges back," she says in a non-threatening way. And with those words she disappears, leaving me with the – not to bad-looking – stranger.

I internally sigh and am left with a sense of confusion, on what could possibly be happening for her to leave this fast.

"It's probably Rosalie having one of her episodes, don't worry about it," Handsome chimes in, as if he just read my mind, though my worries only intensify. Must be some episode if Kate's immediately called away. Is everyone here like that, I wonder. Does Edward have these 'episodes' as well?

I stop my own train of thought, no longer allowing it. I'll be out of here as soon as possible and I'm too tired to be bothered with these kind of things; so I won't waste my energy on these strangers – or fellow-prisoners, I guess. Right now I simply desire to lie down, preferably alone.

"You're the welcome-committee then?" I mumble, as I allow myself to look around and take in every detail of my room, feeling utterly uncomfortable. It'd be wrong to try and escape on the first right? Or perhaps I could just tackle him to the ground, claim my territory. I'm not really sure what the 'social norm' is in within this place.

He softly chuckles and finally gets up from my bed in his completely teared up jeans. "Perhaps I am," he states with an overly charming smile and extends his hand towards me, "Edward Cullen, long-time resident and expert poker-player. And with whom might I have the pleasure?"

"I haven't decided yet." He simply raises an eyebrow and I can't help but do the same with the corner of my mouth, giving him a crooked smile. "You should leave," I continue with little hesitation, not hiding my discomfort and exhaustion with his presence. "I'm tired."

"How can I fulfil my duties as your personal welcome-committee if my honored guest is going to take a nap?" he asks in a faked state of shock, even gasping a little.

I simply shrug my shoulders and take a seat on the bed, kicking of my grey sneakers.

"I'll just have to take you up on it later then," he grins widely. "But you won't escape it. So much to see and learn; secret smuggle-routes, poker tournaments and my presence, of course. You don't want to miss it."

"We'll see," I state, though I can't help but answer his smile with one of my own.

"God, it's a little soon to be flirting, don't you think? We hardly know each other!" He obviously finds himself to be very amusing, though gets a little more serious for merely a second and gives me a kind glance I feel is nothing but sincere. "You intrigue me, Quiet One."

I frown, not completely understanding why – though I don't say a word, as he starts to leave.

"Welcome to Forks Mental Institute, Quiet One. Enjoy your stay."


End file.
